


On a Steel Platter

by Tipsy_Kitty



Series: Steel Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 05:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3163697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tipsy_Kitty/pseuds/Tipsy_Kitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <a href="http://tipsy-kitty.livejournal.com/33773.html">The Ecstasy of Steel</a>, in which Jared is an early 20th century blacksmith and Jensen comes to his shop looking for hand-crafted toys; this fic takes place directly after the first one.<br/>This is an incredibly long overdue fandomaid fic for the lovely and very patient heartblowswild. Thank you so much for your generous donation! Also written for my Jan 2015 smpc entry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On a Steel Platter

A soft breeze wafts through the carriage windows, ruffling Jared’s hair and carrying with it the sweet scent of magnolia blossoms.

They are quiet during the ride from the commercial district to Jensen’s home. It’s only a few miles, but Jensen has watched from the corner of his eye as Jared grows increasingly discomfited during the trip, no doubt due to the jostling of the plug nestled inside him as the horses draw the carriage over the brick-paved streets. 

Jensen has never before pursued a paramour so slowly, never made himself wait so long before taking his pleasure, and his body is humming with anticipation. He knows it will be worth the months of waiting, the months of watching Jared create the implements that Jensen will use to torment him with delicious pleasures. 

“How does it fit?” he asks, and when Jared looks at him questioningly, Jensen flicks his eyes meaningfully to the bulge in Jared’s pants.

“Umm,” Jared says, following Jensen’s gaze to the small steel cage hidden beneath the folds of his trousers. He shifts his legs. “Tight. Strange.”

“Because you’re aroused, and yet so soft?” Jensen asks, his voice a purr.

Jared’s face flushes, visibly pink even in the deepening shadows of twilight.

“Because your flesh is yearning to break from the cage, to seek its release?”

“Jensen,” Jared groans. “Please. Stop teasing.”

“What would be the fun in that?” Jensen asks with a wicked smile. “Now, be still, we’re almost home.” Jared exhales sharply but his shifting ceases with Jensen’s command, and he sits, straight-backed, with his palms resting on his knees for the remainder of the trip, his eyelids fluttering closed each time they hit a particularly rough stretch of broken pavement.

J. D. Morgan really knew what he was doing when he steered Jensen towards McNally’s smithy, Jensen reflects as they make their way home. Morgan liked to claim he could spot a submissive in need of a master or mistress at 100 paces, and Jensen had always laughed off his claims. But Morgan had turned to Jensen one night while they were playing cards down at the club and told him with all earnestness to go pay a visit to McNally’s apprentice blacksmith.

“He made the most beguiling collar for Lady Hilarie,” Morgan had said, swirling a glass of scotch whiskey. “Have him create something for you, you won’t be disappointed.”

“I’ve little need for many bedroom embellishments since Matthew ran off,” Jensen had scoffed, still stinging a bit that his pretty bedmate had returned to his family after his father’s death to claim his inheritance—and marry a woman!

Morgan waved a hand, unconcerned. “You’ll forget all about young Michael—“

“—Matthew.”

“—soon enough. I know what I’m talking about, Jensen. That boy is not just beautiful, but strong, quiet-natured; he’s a rare find. He was born to wear a collar, and if you’re smart, it’ll be yours.”

The conversation had shifted then as two more joined the table so they could play euchre, but Jensen had continued to mull over the suggestion. And when he’d finally laid eyes on the boy, so strong and tall, so beautiful in his acquiescence, Jensen was smitten.

The carriage pulls up behind his house, a two-story Italianate home in a quiet enclave. He leaves his driver to care for the horses and steers Jared through the rear entrance, stopping to confer briefly with his housekeeper before leading Jared into his library, a cozy room with overstuffed furniture and a low, flickering fire to keep away the spring chill.

“I suppose you have questions,” Jensen says, as he removes his top coat and sinks down into the sofa closest to the fire. He gestures at Jared to join him, but Jared sinks to his knees in front of Jensen without being asked. Yes, that old dog Morgan really could spot a natural submissive, it seemed. Jensen is exceptionally pleased to have followed his advice.

“I…”

“You may speak freely, Jared. What concerns might you have?”

Jared bites his lip. “How long am I to wear…this?” he asks, gesturing at his trousers.

“Clothes?” Jensen asks with a smirk.

Jared flushes. “I was referring to the, umm, cage?”

Jensen smiles at his housekeeper when she enters the room carrying a tray laden with wine, cheeses, and candied fruits. 

“You don’t like it?” he asks mildly as Samantha pours him a glass of wine. 

Jared’s eyes follow her retreat. “I…” Jared takes a breath. “I like pleasing you. So if this pleases you, then yes.”

 _Good boy_ , Jensen thinks, taking a small sip of the velvety Bordeaux. “It pleases me greatly to see you so eager,” he says finally. “But it pleases me more to see your beautiful cock standing proud and erect. We’ll consider this a game we play only once in awhile, how’s that?”

“Yes, Jensen.” Jared looks relieved. 

“We have much to talk about, if you’re planning on staying with me. Do you want to stay with me?”

Jared nods shyly.

“Well, tomorrow we’ll have to discuss our expectations. I may ask things of you that you’re not comfortable with, you may wish me to make use of you in particular ways…you see how it is.”

He can tell that Jared doesn’t understand, not really, but Jensen thinks such discussions can wait until morning. He doesn’t plan on being particularly demanding tonight, and his self-control is wearing thin.

“Please stand up, Jared, and remove your shirts.”

Jared glances quickly at the open door, but stands obediently and begins unbuttoning his cotton shirt with shaking fingers.

Jensen watches, working to maintain his calm façade even as his heart rate begins to accelerate and his cock stiffens in his trousers.

Jared slides the shirt down his long arms and then removes the white undershirt, holding the clothes uncertainly. Jensen nods towards an ottoman, and Jared folds them quickly and precisely before taking his place in front of Jensen again.

“Now pull on the clamps, Jared.”

Jared closes his eyes and reaches both hands tentatively towards his chest, fingers playing over the clamps that are biting into his swollen nipples.

“Will there be anything else tonight, Mister Ackles?” asks Samantha from the doorway. Jared’s eyes fly open, but his hands continue working at the clamps.

“Just a small dish of olive oil, Miss Smith. Then you’re free to retire for the night.”

“Of course.”

Jensen enjoys watching Jared flush with mortification even as his fingers never cease tormenting his own nipples. He files that away for later consideration. He’s not given to sharing, but he does like keeping his lovers off-balance; it appears that a little public exposure is one way to fluster his new boy. 

“Harder,” he says mildly, and Jared winces but begins twisting the small steel clamps and tugging them with more force. He’s going to be in for quite a surprise when Jensen decides to remove them.

“Very good. Now please remove the rest of your clothing.”

Jared takes a steadying breath and then reaches down to unlace his boots. Soon the rest of his garments have joined his shirts on the footstool, with his boots placed neatly next to it. He stands up, naked except for the steel adornments he’d affixed to himself earlier that afternoon.

“Your oil, Mister Ackles.”

Jared flinches at Samantha’s voice, but otherwise remains unmoving.

“Thank you, Miss Smith. This is Jared, by the way. He’ll be staying with us for awhile.”

“There’s quite a lot of him, sir.”

“That there is, Miss Smith. Good night.”

She leaves with a rustle of skirts. She’s been in his employ for more than a decade, and has never once expressed surprise or disdain about what he gets up to in the privacy of his home. He pays her handsomely for her discretion, of course, as well as her talents in the kitchen.

“You’re doing very well, Jared,” Jensen says, finally rising to his feet. He removes his jacket and cravat, and lets his suspenders fall around his hips as he approaches. “Hands behind your back, please.”

Jared’s breathing shallowly, his nipples puffy, balls red and swollen, and his cock twitches against the confines of the steel bars that encage it. 

He’s the most gorgeous thing Jensen’s ever seen.

Jensen clips the steel wrist cuffs together with the clever little catch Jared had built into them, and Jared’s hands settle against the dip of his lower back. Jensen removes a blue silk handkerchief from his front pocket and places it in Jared’s hands.

“If you want me to stop playing with you, you’ll drop this handkerchief. Understood?”

“Yes,” Jared whispers.

“If you beg me to stop, if you cry or plead, I’m going to keep going. I _like_ begging,” Jensen continues. “So you have to release the cloth if you’re serious.”

“I understand.”

Jensen reaches up and swiftly unscrews the clamps, watching as Jared’s face turns pale as milk at the sensation of blood rushing into his abused nubs.

“Ah!” he cries, and Jensen grins.

“It’s quite something, isn’t it?” Jensen asks conversationally, as though they were discussing something as innocuous as the weather.

He waits for Jared’s breathing to calm before he dips his head and latches onto Jared’s left nipple, sucking and worrying at it while Jared shudders beneath him. He draws more blood into the nipple, nibbles it gently with his teeth while Jared writhes and bucks and, Jensen notes with satisfaction, grips the handkerchief tightly in his fists.

Jensen turns his attention to the other nipple, bites and licks at it while his hands hold Jared’s slim hips in a steadying grip. His mouth is wet and swollen when he finally pulls free, and Jared’s gaze is fixated on his lips as his body shakes with a combination of pleasure and need.

“I’m going to fuck you now, Jared,” he says, voice low, and Jared’s breath catches.

“Yes,” he says. “Yes, please Jensen, Master, please fuck me!”

“Lie down.”

Jared sinks to his knees on the plush rug in front of the fireplace, maintaining his balance despite his bound arms. “How…?”

“On your back, please.”

Jared braces his hands against the floor, hitching up his hips so he can stretch his legs out in front of him, and then lies down, arching his back so the cuffs don’t dig too deeply into the flesh of his back.

Jensen opens a drawer set into the bookcase and removes a length of chain, which he winds through the manacles. He pushes Jared’s ankles up to his thighs and clips each end of the chain to his ankle cuffs, leaving Jared bound and spread open beneath him.

“How do you feel, Jared?” he asks. A quick glance shows that Jared is still gripping the silken square so tightly that his knuckles are white.

Jared wriggles his hips and sighs. “Safe,” he whispers. “Yours.”

“Mine,” Jensen agrees with a smile, rising to his feet again and stripping off the rest of his clothes quickly, noting how Jared’s eyes track his every movement, how they grow wide when Jensen’s thick cock finally springs free from the confines of his undergarments.

He kneels between Jared’s legs and rotates the steel plug, causing Jared to writhe against his bindings, watching how Jared’s cock fights against its restraints. He gently removes the plug, quite warm now from the heat of Jared’s body, though he imagines it had been rather chilly when Jared had first inserted it.

He dips his fingers into the bowl of oil and then rubs at Jared’s entrance, slipping his thumbs inside and watching with interest as Jared’s rim, already well stretched from the girth of the plug, twitches at Jensen’s touch. 

Jared shifts helplessly. “Please, Jensen,” he says, his voice low and pleading. “Please put it in, please!”

Jensen slicks up his cock with the oil, stroking it slowly, feeling it fatten even further under his touch. Jared watches with interest, licking his lips, and Jensen imagines his cock sliding between those wide pink lips, thinks that cocksucking will have to be one of Jared’s first lessons when they wake in the morning. But tonight, tonight he’s going to claim Jared’s virgin ass, as he’s been fantasizing about for nigh on six months.

He feeds his cock into Jared’s entrance inch by torturously slow inch, a long, slow glide, pausing several times to give the boy time to adjust to the strange sensation of being filled so utterly and completely. Jared bites his lips, alternate expressions of pleasure and discomfort chasing themselves across his features, but when Jensen slips a hand underneath the small of Jared’s back, he finds Jared is maintaining his death grip on the handkerchief.

“You’re being so good for me, Jared,” he says, his voice a hoarse whisper. “So good for me,” and Jared looks shyly pleased. When finally his cock is fully sheathed, his balls nestled against the globes of Jared’s ass, Jensen lets out a long breath.

He shifts his hips gently, one hand toying with Jared's balls. 

“Do you want my permission to come tonight, Jared?” he asks softly, and Jared nods his head quickly, eyes wide.

“Convince me,” he says, and then he wraps his hands around Jared’s firm thighs as he rocks slowly into Jared’s impossibly tight ass.

“Please, Jensen, be good, be so good,” Jared pleads, trying to move with Jensen but unable to gain any leverage against his bindings. His helpless body slides along the oriental rug in time with Jensen’s thrusts. Jensen pounds into his body steadily, his movements rhythmic and controlled, while Jared shakes and trembles and begs beneath him.

“So good, so good,” Jared moans. Jensen grips Jared’s thighs more tightly and rises to his knees, pulling Jared’s lower body slightly off the floor, angling them so that Jared can see where their bodies join, his gaze fixed on Jensen’s cock as it drives into him. 

“Jensen, Jensen, Jensen,” he chants breathlessly, as Jensen’s rocking thrusts push the air from his lungs.

Jensen increases his pace slowly and steadily, not willing to push his body to the brink until Jared is desperate, though the slide and grip of Jared’s ass twitching around his slick cock makes him go a little breathless himself.

“Please let me come, please let me, please,” Jared cries, clenching around Jensen’s cock. Jensen sees a bead of fluid gather at Jared’s slit, then another, and he almost loses it then, but it takes a lot for Jensen to lose control. His hips quicken their pace as he watches more pearly drops leak from the tip of Jared’s cock. 

“I’m not sure you really want to come, Jared,” he says, switching the angle of his entry so that every press hits Jared’s swollen prostate.

“Oh God, oh please,” Jared begs, and Jensen smiles, and relents.

He wraps his left arm across Jared’s thighs to hold him in place while his right hand fumbles behind him for the end table, where he’d placed the tiny key Jared had painstakingly crafted.

Jared sees the key in his hand and his eyes shine with relief, even as his begging intensifies.

“Jensen, Jensen, _please_ ,” he says. Jensen stills his movements and adjusts their bodies so Jared’s thighs are pressed to his chest, his long body folded in half, ankles dangling helplessly against their steel restraints. He fits the silver key into the lock and unhinges the base, slips the cage away from Jared’s body, and watches as Jared’s cock fills quickly, bounces against his stomach.

“Yes,” Jensen says. “Yes, Jared, you may come.” 

He presses Jared’s straining thighs into his chest and resumes fucking into Jared, faster now, harder, his own orgasm imminent, his control finally shattered. Jared’s cries are higher in pitch, his breathing uneven and ragged, and when Jensen ghosts his fingers up and down Jared’s cock with the lightest of touches, Jared falls apart, his cock spurting come, hot and thick, all over his stomach and chest.

Jensen could come right then, desperately wants to come, his dick aching for release as he watches Jared’s body twitch and convulse with pleasure, but he keeps pounding into Jared for another moment or two, until Jared’s breath hitches and he whines from overstimulation, and with that small, pained sound, Jensen finally allows himself to achieve his own release. His hips stutter and his cock erupts, and a possessive, animalistic growl tears from his throat, a sound he’s sure he’s never made before.

He collapses forward onto Jared, who has gone pliant and quiet beneath him, almost passed out. He cradles Jared’s pretty, flushed cheeks between his palms and kisses him on the lips once, twice.

“Jensen,” Jared says, his voice wrecked, and Jensen shushes him as he pulls out of Jared’s lax body.

“So good, Jared,” he murmurs as he begins unlocking all of the various cuffs, as he pries the handkerchief from Jared’s fingers, dips it into a pitcher of tepid water on the sideboard, and begins cleaning Jared of his own come and Jensen’s, now spilling from his puffy hole.

He helps Jared rise on legs that tremble like a foal’s, and steers him to the master bedroom. He spreads Jared out on the bed, rubs at his bruised wrists and ankles, and smoothes lotion onto the faint rug burn on Jared’s upper back and shoulders.

Jared smiles at him sleepily as he joins Jared on the bed and draws the covers over them. 

His mind is quiet as he takes care of Jared, but it’s not long before he’s thinking about what the next day will hold, and the next. There are so many ideas he wants to explore with Jared, so many instruments of desire—ropes and leather, silken scarves and cold steel. For tonight, he simply wraps an arm around Jared’s chest and tugs him close, listens to Jared’s breathing even out as he’s drawn into sleep.

“So good, Jared,” he whispers one last time, before allowing sleep to claim him as well.


End file.
